


Picking Fights

by Rainsong



Series: No Rest in This World [4]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle, Elf-Blooded Hawke (Dragon Age), M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Hawke (Dragon Age), Not Beta Read, Other, POV Anders (Dragon Age), POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Rough Kissing, Trans Hawke (Dragon Age), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29873700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainsong/pseuds/Rainsong
Summary: While trudging back to Hightown, Anders thinks about how he’ll tell this story to Varric. Because Varric will want to hear it, and Hawke can’t be trusted not to embellish.It went something like this.Hawke had promised him a peaceful walk in the Antivan quarter of Hightown, at most a little bit of trespassing to get a good view of the stars. They just had to make a quick detour to the docks to make a delivery for Isabela. Something about the contact being a creep who only respected men with swords bigger than his. It was hard to tell whether it was literal, metaphorical, or both, with Isabela.Prompt: "Rough kisses" and my Hawke/Anders.See work notes for trigger warnings.
Relationships: Anders/Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Male Hawke
Series: No Rest in This World [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099796
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Picking Fights

**Author's Note:**

> You can also read this fic on Tumblr [here](https://rainwolfheart.tumblr.com/post/644868017568759808/got-sent-this-prompt-a-while-back-from). Thanks to [floralprintshark](https://floralprintshark.tumblr.com/) for the prompt!  
>  **Trigger warnings:** Canon-typical violence, fantasy racism.

While trudging back to Hightown, Anders thinks about how he’ll tell this story to Varric. Because Varric will want to hear it, and Hawke can’t be trusted not to embellish.

It went something like this.

Hawke had promised him a peaceful walk in the Antivan quarter of Hightown, at most a little bit of trespassing to get a good view of the stars. They just had to make a quick detour to the docks to make a delivery for Isabela. Something about the contact being a creep who only respected men with swords bigger than his. It was hard to tell whether it was literal, metaphorical, or both, with Isabela.

Unfortunately, they never had the chance to find out.

The wind had blown Hawke’s hood away from their face, revealing their pointed ears, and the brute (Anders had never figured out exactly what his business was) had spat at them. Something along the lines of “Isabela sending knife-ears to do her dirty work again.”

Really, Anders shouldn’t have been surprised.

Hawke handed off the coin purse to Anders and drew their blade. Justice roared in Anders’ ears at the same time as Hawke shouted something back at the brute, so Anders wasn’t quite certain what they had said, but it was enough to make the brute draw his own daggers.

The whole thing lasted less than a minute. The blood will be black and dry by morning, only some of it Hawke’s. There’s a 50/50 chance Isabela will be angry with them for messing it up, or else be smug and proud for returning her money.

But right now, the important thing is getting Hawke home and bathed.

“I’m sorry,” they say, for about the fifth time, as they start making their way up the steps to Hightown proper.

“I forgive you,” says Anders, also for about the fifth time.

Hawke is a little unsteady, but can walk on their own. Still, they’re clutching Anders’ hand like it will somehow make their apology or his forgiveness tangible. Anders squeezes it, in the vain hope that it will help. Hawke gives him a faint smile; maybe it does.

“Most of it’s not mine,” says Hawke, in lieu of greeting. Orana’s eyes grow wide, not reassured by the statement vis-a-vis the state of Hawke’s clothing.

“I’ll draw you a bath, master,” she says.

“Thank you,” sighs Hawke.

“Next time we have a quick detour before our date, you should wear your full armour,” says Anders, once they’re in Hawke’s room and getting rid of the bloodstained, sweaty clothes. Hawke grins.

“It does make things romantic,” they say. There’s still some anxiety in their eyes. “Are you really not upset?”

“I am upset,” says Anders. “But I’m not upset with you.”

“Really?”

“Maybe I’d like it if you were a little less reckless,” he admits. “But you’re not picking fights without cause.”

Hawke’s smile seems genuine, then.

“So, Justice likes it?”

“Justice isn’t displeased,” says Anders. He leans into Hawke, gently pushing them back towards the wall. Hawke complies.

“And Anders?”

Anders wants Hawke to stop being so apologetic. So he kisses them, with an intensity that surprises even him. Hawke relaxes, and holds him close. Anders doesn’t hold back. He sucks at Hawke’s lip and barely stops for breath as he kisses his way across their cheek and jaw. On another day, he might have been a little more gentle to avoid beard burn and bite marks, but he doesn’t have the patience for it tonight.

“Part of me wishes you’d stop getting into fights like this,” he says, against their neck.

Hawke hums something incoherent.

“But part of me likes it,” says Anders, against their cheek. Hawke turns their head to find his lips, and they mirror his intensity.

“Now you know how I feel…” says Hawke, pulling Anders closer by the waist to grind against him. “When Justice picks fights.”

Anders can’t help but laugh a little, but it’s quickly stifled by Hawke’s kiss, all tongue. Anders almost wants to forgo the bath and take this to the bed, but the dried blood on Hawke’s shoulder that his hand brushes reminds him that a bath would probably be preferable.

They’re both startled a few minutes later by Orana’s quiet knock, and Anders bites down on Hawke’s lip in a way that makes both of them recoil. Hawke brings a hand to their lip.

“Just a minute,” they say, loud enough for Orana to hear.

“Sorry,” says Anders.

“Don’t apologize,” says Hawke, taking him by the waist to kiss him again—gently.


End file.
